“Ah.” I rubbed my thumbs over her knuckles. “That’d be the classic hit, If I Had Three Wishes I’d Waste Two On You and One On the Booze.”
Liz laughed again, surreptitiously wiping at her eyes. “What’s the deal with the long name?”
“It’s a matter of artistic integrity,” I answered. “Can’t be a real pop-punk-emo-rock-star without it.”
For the first time, the silence that fell over Liz and I was a comfortable one, broken only by her occasional sniffle. She still hadn’t let go of my hand, and I’d be damned if I was going to make her. It felt good to comfort her, to affect some change in her life that wasn’t horrific. For the first time, I felt like I was actually helping.
“I suppose you’re about to have some more material,” she said. “What kind of run-on title do you give to a song about a marriage and a pregnancy born from a drunken stupor?”
“I’ll have to think on that one,” I said with faux pensivity. I eyed her. “Does that mean that you’ll give this a try?”
“For now,” Liz agreed at length, and after another moment of silence.
“For now,” I nodded back, smiling as food finally arrived at our table.
“So what do we do next?” she asked quietly.
“I think we eat, and see where things go. No pressure, no expectations. For now it’s a sham marriage, but maybe it doesn’t have to stay that way.”
I leaned back and away from the table, but still she did not take her hand from mine. This was progress, even if it meant I had to eat with my left hand. It wasn’t long before I noticed a quick flash or two coming from one of the windows. They’d caught us holding hands, and I already knew that photo would be all over the damn news tomorrow. It really couldn’t have gone better if I’d planned it.
And yet I felt a little sad that the paparazzi had finally arrived. This moment should have been mine and Liz’s alone. To her credit, she put on a smile and pretended not to notice. That was good, because every time she smiled I wasn’t sure when I was going to see that expression again.
“You know, this is almost nice.”
“Did you expect anything less? You don’t seem like the kind of girl who’d marry an asshole,” I replied, laughing.
Swallowing one last bite, Liz lifted her eyes again to settle her gaze on my face. I held her stare. “Maybe I was being a little crazy, but I think I saw the actual Julian Bastille the night we met. And he’s a man I think I could like… Tequila did the rest.”
I let out a breath. Like me? Well, that was a start, even disregarding the tequila. Women threw themselves at me and men wanted to be me, but I couldn’t exactly count them as friends… or more than friends…
“I just wish I could remember more about the honeymoon suite,” she said, giving me a little smile.
“I must have done something right, or we wouldn’t be in this little predicament…”
“Maybe you did,” Liz replied. “God, this whole situation is just so… fucked. I slept with the hottest guy in Britain and all I have to show for it is a hangover, a Vegas wedding, and a baby. I mean, I’ve just pissed off an entire island of women, and I don’t even get to brag about what it was like.”
A waiter closed the blinds on yet another window as Liz finished off the food on her plate, blocking us from view from the growing crowd outside.
“Do you want to find out?”
“Do I want to find out what?” she replied, laughing nervously.
“What it was like?” I answered slowly, the words rolling off almost like a lyric to a new song.
The ride back to my hotel room took way too fucking long, and the elevator ride seemed even slower. We’d stayed close the whole way, the building tension between us almost unbearable. It was everything I could do not to pin her up against the wall of this elevator and fuck her senseless.
“So how much do you remember?” I finally asked her as the doors slipped open, walking her down the hall toward my room.
“More than you, I think. But I don’t know if you were any good…”
“You could always make something up and spare me my dignity,” I offered. “I take great care in being the kind of lay you can at least reflect upon with some modicum of pride.”
Liz looked me up and down as I swiped the hotel card and swept her up off the floor to carry her into the room. I got the impression she was sizing me up. I puffed out my chest and she laughed as I closed the door behind us and tossed her onto the king sized bed.
“I might have had too much tequila, but I’m pretty sure not all of the rumors are true.”
“Well, I suppose that depends, doesn’t it?” I asked thoughtfully, joining her on the bed and leaning back on my elbows.
She turned her head over her shoulder to look at me. “On what?”
“On just what they say.”
Again, she rolled her eyes. “What they say borders on the absurd. I’m sure I’d have remembered if that stuff was true.”
“Oh?” I peaked my brows. “Do they say I’ve got a foot-long and an insatiable lust for post-coital cuddling with a pint of brownie ice cream? If so, then I’m afraid that you’ll be disappointed on one of those fronts.”
Her eyes sparkled with a kind of mischief I hadn’t seen in her before. “So you’re not a cuddler, then?”
I grinned. “Lactose intolerant, love. I can cuddle for days… Come on. Tell me what they say about me.” Playfully, I smacked my knee into hers. “Stroke my ego a bit, after how thoroughly you demolished it the other day.”
“Well…” Liz said, eyes sliding skyward as she thought. “They say you’ve got a reputation for… stamina. Pretty sure I remember that being true.”
I grinned even wider. “What else?”
“And I know that you’ve got quite the tongue,” she said, her skin blushing red.
“Is that it?”
“No.” She didn’t continue.
I bumped my knee into hers again. “Well?”
“Well… maybe you haven’t got a ‘foot-long,’ but…” She actually did the air quotes, and it made me laugh. “I remember you’re blessed… Maybe…”
I howled. “Blessed! Is that the word for it?”
Liz threw up her hands. “What did you want me to say? ‘Well-hung’?”
“Only if you think it’s true.”
“Like so much else about that night, I don’t know. Maybe my own drunken brain was exaggerating. If it were so big, wouldn’t I remember it a bit better?”
“You were as hammered as I was! At any rate, how do I know you weren’t awful and I was the amazing one?”
“Oh please. You wanted in my pants so bad you married me! And besides, if you were as good as all that, I would have remembered.”
“And by your own logic, if you were as good as all that, I would remember.”
Liz regarded me for a moment, lips pursed. After a time, she conceded the point with a muttered, “Touché.”
Oh, I liked this side of her. As irksome as it was, it was also exciting.
“I guess there’s only one way to settle this,” I ventured. I wasn’t sure if I was really hitting on her, or just trying to get a rise out of her again. I suspected it might be a bit of both. As expected, she laughed, giving me a bit of a push.
“Is that how it is? You expect me to hop into bed with you just like that?”
“You did follow me home… What’s the harm in having another go?”
She arched a brow at me.